


potions of nausea were made inaccessible via vanilla brewing methods due to changes in the minecraft java brewing system

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emetophilia, Vomiting, freaks who write underage dni, i dont have any excuses im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: it starts out with a silly little game that leads to some interesting discoveries.-it's a vomit fic i don't know what you want from me.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	potions of nausea were made inaccessible via vanilla brewing methods due to changes in the minecraft java brewing system

**Author's Note:**

> orphaning this fic IMMEDIATELY because i dont want to take ANY chances  
> listen im disgusted with myself and this isnt even my weirdest kink ok i know I KNOW

It started out with a little game during an off day. Everything on the to-do list had been completed and the sun was still high in the sky, so Schlatt decided he'd let everyone off for the rest of the day while he thought about what else needed to be done around the place. The kids, as Schlatt liked to affectionately refer to his underlings, despite almost all of them being adults or close enough to it, had decided to take advantage of the nice day and spend most of it playing dumb games in the field outside the white house. Schlatt didn't want to get involved himself, but sat closeby and watched.

The games slowly evolved from truth-or-dare-esque party games that shifted into casual conversation. Schlatt doesn't quite remember when Fundy brought out the ender chest full of potions. He wasn't really paying full attention to everything. Was just watching and zoning out. It was only when an opaque container was filled with a potion he started paying attention.

"This is a horrible idea," Eret mumbled, laying back with their hands in the grass keeping him propped up.

"Oh, for sure," Fundy said with a smile, setting the now empty glass bottle down against his leg. "Why else would we be doing it?"

"Yeah, have you met us, Eret?" Quackity asked, elbowing Eret in the side, making him laugh and drop to her elbows. "Bad ideas central over here."

Schlatt tilted his head to the side in curiosity. He hadn't been listening to what this was supposed to be. When he watched Fundy pull another potion out of the ender chest and fill another container with it, he started to get an idea. When Fundy was done filling one more container, he set them on the ground on front of the group and sat back.

"So there's night vision, swiftness, and nausea." Fundy said. 

Quackity made a gagging noise.

"Of course you'd do two negative options." He said.

"Two? There's only one." Tubbo made a face.

"Night vision," He said as if it was obvious. "It's literally the middle of the day, that's gonna hurt like hell."

"Pussy," Eret said between coughs. Quackity immediately reached over and slapped her in the back of the head, making the flower crown fall off their curls.

"Okay," Fundy interrupted, holding a hand out, almost like a kindergarten teacher trying to calm rabid children. An apt comparison if you asked Schlatt. "Who wants to go first?" 

A moment passed before Eret put a finger to their nose and said, "Not it," causing everyone else in the group to do the same. Tubbo came in last and made an offended squack-like noise when the others laughed at him. 

Tubbo ended up having to cover his eyes for the next few minutes, the light of the sun obviously painful in his eyes' more perceptive state. Schlatt had laughed and Quackity called him a dick. Which was fair. Eret just shook his head and wrapped an arm around Tubbo's shoulder in an attempt to be comforting until the effects wore off.

A small arguement about whether they were going clockwise or counter clockwise broke out for a short while before Quackity just volunteered to go next and picked up a cup and started drinking.

It's a well known fact potions aren't the most delicious thing in the world, which is why most people on the server use spash potions over anything else, so the momentary grimace that passes Quackity's face when he finishes isn't surprising. The group goes silent, waiting for the effects to kick in, or at least for him to figure them out. Quackity's eyes jumped from place to place as he waited, until he scrunched them shut tight.

"Bad," He said, raising a hand to his forehead. Fundy and Tubbo both started laughing at him. Nausea. Of course. Quackity's hand went from his temple to covering his mouth, his other hand instinctively wrapping around his stomach.

"That leaves me with the good one! Yes!" Eret exclaimed, sitting up straight to pump her fists in the air. The others momentarily forgot about Quackity while they laughed to themselves. Only until he made a small noise of pain in his throat did they looked back to him and stop. "Oh, are you okay?" Eret asked.

Quackity shook his head, hand curling into a fist in the fabric of his jacket. Fundy reached out to lay a hand gently on his shoulder, and if Schlatt didn't know any better, that would be what triggered what happened next.

Quackity vomited.

His body seemed to convulse as he gagged into his palm, curling in on himself. Liquid suddenly started to seep out from between his fingers before he pulled his hand away and let it fall into the space in front of him, splashing onto his clothes. The others jumped back to get out of the splash zone, but any damage it could cause had already been done. 

Schlatt froze watching the scene, eyes wide. Quackity retched, bile and spit dribbling down his chin. He instinctively brought his hand up to his mouth again, but shakily pulled it back as another wave of nausea hit him and another spew of slightly viscous liquid fell from his lips. Wet coughs followed, droplets of spit and half-digested chunks of food falling with them. In between each cough he heaved in breath after breath, trying to get some air into his lungs and calm himself again. Fundy's hand returned, rubbing up and down the length of his back.

It was horrible. It was disgusting.

It was kind of hot.

Schlatt blinked in surprise at his own thought. What the fuck? He shook his head, trying to rid that from his brain forever. 

Except. He was kind of right. Replaying the scene in his head, he thought about the face Quackity had made when the sickness had first hit. Twisted in discomfort, but not quite pain. Eyes half closed, nose scrunched up, frown crossing his lips. And when he suddenly lost control of his stomach, something about it. Pressed all the right buttons for Schlatt. It was an image that'd be stuck in his head for a long time starting now, he just knew it.

Back in the present, Quackity's face was bright red and a few tears stained his cheeks while he pinched the bridge of his nose. It was a good look on him, he'll admit. Fundy and Tubbo were both at his side trying to comfort him and asking him if he needed anything. Quackity shook his head and a small dribble of spit or bile or god knows what else followed the movement of his head until it hit his shirt and stuck there. Schlatt's eyes followed it and slowly dragged down to the mess in front of the young man.

It was gross, there was no denying that. It was a pile of half-digested food and stomach acid and spit all mixed together into a disgusting chunky mess. But it was strangely mesmerizing. Something about the way it sunk into the grass and the fabric of Quackity's sweatpants. Something about the tiny clusters of air bubbles popping around the edges as they touched blades of grass. Schlatt wondered what the consistency of it must be like. It seemed to change entirely depending on which part of the puddle he looked at. He knew what Quackity had ate earlier that day, fried rice and noodles, but he was certain if he didn't, he'd be able to figure it out by examining the mess long enough.

The smell finally hit his nose and he really couldn't deny the way his slcaks felt just a bit too tight for comfort. 

He got up without a word and fled the scene as casually as he could while trying to get out of there as fast as possible. Nobody needed to know. He didn't owe any explanation.


End file.
